


Ocean

by JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite



Category: Soul (2020)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite/pseuds/JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite
Summary: “The ocean?” says the older fish.“That’s what you’re in right now.”Or a.k.a Dorothea and Joe have a conversation.
Relationships: Dorothea Williams & Joe Gardner
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55





	Ocean

Dorothea doesn’t seem surprised to see Joe again, the day after their first gig together.

Joe didn’t really expect her to be. From the first moment he saw her, with gold bathed on her skin and beneath her fingertips like flickering embers, she was a phenomenon. Something not to be understood but to be _marveled_ at, a book with never-ending pages.

(She held the stars between her lips and teeth, the planets on each finger pad.

The Milky Way was her breath and the universe her soul.)

Miss Dorothea Williams had _presence_ , there was no denying that, and Joe felt every inch of that as he walked up to her, tonguing at the back of his teeth.

It feels like their first meeting all over again, the way everything goes silent when she turns towards him, the way it feels like his heart is trying to escape his chest. But, it is different as well. The look she gives him is stoic as ever but, there’s an expectancy in the slight lift of her brows, the tilt of her chin. She catches his gaze and holds on tight.

(It’s a shadow of the look she gave him when he played, by god _really_ played, the piano. She no longer looked through him but _at_ him, truly saw him for what he was. Someone desperate. Someone passionate.

A _true_ jazz player.

He wonders what she sees now, with those deep brown eyes of hers.)

Curley looks at the both of them anxiously and even the ever calm Miho fiddles with the tuners of her bass as she eyes them. Joe only steps a little closer.

“Hello, Miss Willams,” Joe finally greets, tipping the brim of his hat, a small smile on his face.

“You’re back,” is all Dorothea says, but it isn’t said in disgust or in joy or even in indifference. It’s mild and it’s calm. It’s an opening. It’s a test.

It’s that moment she tilted her head and told him to get on stage, gave him the chance to show what he was really worth.

_(C’mon Teach, show me whatcha got_.)

Joe wipes at his pants, shuffles his feet. Can’t help the way the smile grows slow and soft across his cheeks like a berceuse, like a melody. Something in Dorothea’s eyes flicker.

“I.... just realized I was in the ocean, Ma’am,” he says, mirth in his tone and in his eyes and Dorothea huffs a little in amusement, a bit of surprise.

“Is that so?” she drawls.

“That’s right,” he replies.

Dorothea turns her gaze to her sax then, and the way she thumbs at the keys is a conversation, her tender hold a confession. Curley looks at them like they’re crazy. Miho‘s look is not far off. And Joe, he can’t find it in himself to care.

(He thinks of pizza and helicopter leaves, the thick sweetness of a well-deserved lollipop.

Of laying on a subway grate just because you _enjoy_ it, not caring if anybody was watching or where you had to be or what you had to do. Just the wind tickling your skin and ruffling your suit, the coolness of the steel against your stomach.

Of that brief moment, with your arms and legs held high above the ground, how it felt like you were _flying_.)

“And how’s the water, Teach?” Dorothea asks, but she says it like she already knows the answer, the side of her lips curled up in a lazy arch, a twinkle in her eyes as she turns to look at him again.

Joe lets out a little laugh, puts his hand in his pocket. Fingers the dented bottle cap inside, the one he had picked up from the ground because it sparkled in the sun like a diamond.

“It’s the same as always,” he says and it’s the truth, “It’s just me who’s different.”

Dorothea barks out a laugh and the twist of her brows holds bemusement, a bit of fondness. Her eyes are crinkled at the corners.

“It’s a good look on you,” she says and Joe smiles so hard he thinks every tooth is showing.

( _“The ocean?” says the older fish._

_“That’s what you’re in right now.”_ )

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I think Soul is one of Pixar’s best movies. The message is so beautiful and the movie really gets you thinking, I can literally talk for hours about the concept and the art design and just everything about this film. I haven’t wrote for a while and this literally gave me the “spark” to write again.


End file.
